Chapter 8: “Please Leave”

[Zhou Leqi... You must persevere.]

When they arrived at the final bus stop, the middle-aged man was still on the bus. Hou Zihao had been keeping an eye on him the entire time and deliberately waited until last to get off. He watched as the man walked away into the distance before finally turning his gaze back.

It was a clear gesture of protection.

Zhou Leqi noticed these subtle actions, and her heart stirred slightly. After repeating two years, her old friends were long gone from City A, and she had never managed to integrate into new social circles. In truth, it had been a long time since she had accepted anyone’s kindness. This was the first time.

She was grateful.

When Hou Zihao turned his attention back to her, he caught her looking up at him. She seemed to be smiling, though perhaps not—her eyes were soft, less cold than usual, exuding a quiet beauty.

“Thank you,” she said.

…Hou Zihao’s heart immediately melted halfway.

He didn’t understand why he was so weak-kneed over a simple “thank you.” But there it was—a tingling sensation washing over him in waves.

He coughed lightly to cover his awkwardness and replied, “No problem, it’s what I should do.”

The phrase “what I should do” carried a subtle undertone, but Zhou Leqi didn’t dwell on it. It was already late, and she didn’t want her mother to worry if she returned home too late.

“I’ll go now,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

“…See you tomorrow.”

She turned and walked away, her figure quickly disappearing into the night. Even after she was gone, the tingling sensation in Hou Zihao’s chest hadn’t subsided.

He couldn’t help but think:

This aftereffect… is pretty intense.

________________________________________

When Zhou Leqi opened the door to her apartment, she saw Zhou Lei.

He was sitting on the small sofa, while Yu Qing sat on a chair by the dining table. They were as far apart as possible. On the table were three bowls of rice and three sets of chopsticks.

Zhou Leqi hadn’t expected this scene. It felt like being stabbed suddenly—the shock was so abrupt that the pain hadn’t yet registered.

As soon as Zhou Lei saw her, he stood up.

He was an unremarkable-looking man. Not particularly tall, with the beer belly common among middle-aged men, his only redeeming feature was his pale skin. Beyond that, there was little else to commend him.

However, he dressed well—wearing a suit and tie, with gold-rimmed glasses, presenting an air of sophistication.

But could a sophisticated person repeatedly cheat?

Could such a person exchange countless vulgar messages with his mistress?

Zhou Leqi sneered.

Zhou Lei took two steps toward her, his expression awkward but seemingly trying to appear affectionate. He called out to her, “Qi Qi...”

He didn’t get any further. As soon as he uttered her name, Zhou Leqi instinctively revealed a look of revulsion.

Her entire body recoiled in disgust.

Zhou Lei grew even more awkward, but Zhou Leqi no longer spared him a glance. She set her bag down and walked over to Yu Qing, saying, “Mom, let’s eat.”

With that, she gathered the extra pair of chopsticks and dumped the extra bowl of rice into the trash right in front of them.

Yu Qing’s eyes were already red, and she tugged at her daughter’s hand, calling out, “Qi Qi…”

Here we go again.

Zhou Leqi felt a surge of exhaustion and anger.

Her mother was softening again.

In this marriage, she had endured so much pain, betrayed repeatedly in countless ways. She had resolved countless times to cut ties completely, yet every time, she ended up relenting.

She shouldn’t have let Zhou Lei step foot in this house again, let alone cook for him or allow him to stay. And most certainly, she shouldn’t have tried to make her communicate with this man who was nominally her “father.”

Zhou Leqi was tired of these endless cycles. Unlike her mother, she wasn’t soft-hearted. Perhaps she was more like Zhou Lei—equally ruthless. If he could so completely abandon his wife and child, why couldn’t she similarly reject this father?

She showed no emotion, her face blank, ignoring her mother’s pleas. Turning her back to Zhou Lei, she said, “Please leave. We’re about to eat.”

That man had thick skin and tried to resist her dismissal. “Qi Qi… Dad didn’t mean anything. I just came to see you and Mom, to see if you need anything… You haven’t answered my calls. I wanted to see you…”

These words were laughable.

Every single word.

Zhou Leqi couldn’t help but turn around and look at him.

“What do I need?” she countered. “I need the house in Butterfly Bay, a car, and a driver to take me to school every day. Would that be okay? I doubt Gao Xiang would approve.”

Zhou Lei fell silent.

Zhou Leqi’s expression was disdainful. “Want to see me? Didn’t you used to see me every day? But you never came home, even running off with that woman on my birthday. It didn’t seem like you cared much then. So why are you saying these things now?”

Zhou Lei retreated step by step.

Zhou Leqi pressed forward, relentless. Her usual silence and reticence at school were nowhere to be seen. Now, she was sharp-tongued and articulate.

“You don’t love me, nor this family. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have cheated during my first college entrance exam, allowing her to cause a scene in our home. At the very least, you wouldn’t have continued those disgusting acts even while I was repeating my senior year, pretending to repent.”

“Qi Qi, I—” Zhou Lei attempted to explain.

But Zhou Leqi refused to listen.

Suddenly, she strode to the front door, flung open both the wooden door and the iron gate, and shouted, “Please leave. Never come back.”

Yu Qing had started crying.

Her sobs stretched endlessly, just as Zhou Leqi had heard countless times over the past two years.

She stood firm, refusing to compromise.

There was a moment of frozen silence.

Zhou Lei seemed to sigh deeply, then finally relented, walking heavily toward the door. As he passed Zhou Leqi, she turned her head away, unwilling to spare him another glance.

Before leaving, he seemed to want to say something more, but she didn’t listen. With a loud “bang,” she slammed the door shut.

That night, Yu Qing cried continuously.

Zhou Leqi didn’t understand why her mother was crying. What was so good about that man? What about him deserved her tears? Yet Yu Qing cried for him repeatedly, even stubbornly refusing to divorce him for years. If Zhou Lei hadn’t made the decision first, they might still be clinging to this pitiful, laughable marriage.

Zhou Leqi was angry, but she also felt sympathy for her mother.

Yu Qing was a woman without a job. Before Zhou Lei’s betrayal, she had lived a life of comfort at home.

Not working almost equated to no social interactions. Back then, aside from the housekeeper, Yu Qing rarely interacted with others. Now divorced, she no longer had a housekeeper. Whenever Zhou Leqi went to school, Yu Qing was left alone, waiting from morning until her daughter returned.

Loneliness was a devastating thing. She must have been suffering greatly, yet she had no way to break free. At over forty years old, having not worked for decades, where could she find a job now? Respectable jobs wouldn’t hire her, and she couldn’t accept anything less. Trapped between these extremes, she had no choice but to remain at home.

With nothing to do, she could only repeatedly reminisce about the past, lamenting the once carefully built family that had now crumbled. And what did memories accomplish? Nothing but amplifying her pain.

Zhou Leqi couldn’t blame her. She knew how much her mother was suffering, how helpless she felt. So when Yu Qing cried, all Zhou Leqi could do was sit with her, repeating the same comforting words she had said countless times before, until the meal that night had grown completely cold.

Everything finally settled down at 10:30 p.m.

Yu Qing had gone to bed. Zhou Leqi sat alone at the dining table, cleaning up the leftovers, and retrieved a desk lamp from the cabinet, turning it on.

She knew she should start her homework. If she began now, she could finish by 3 a.m., giving her nearly three hours of sleep.

But her mind was turbulent that night, filled with restlessness. Faced with her worksheets and practice books, she had the urge to tear them to shreds, unable to muster any motivation to write.

A fire burned inside her, but she couldn’t destroy her homework. In the end, she tore a page from her notebook instead, careful not to rip too loudly lest she wake her sleeping mother. If her mother saw her breaking down, she would surely cry again.

Zhou Leqi… you must persevere.

This time, you must succeed in the college entrance exam and go to Beijing.

Once you’re in Beijing, everything will be alright.

Yet in the end, she still hadn’t finished her homework. She hadn’t touched her math assignment, and her English workbook remained unopened.

She nearly arrived late to school the next morning, her thoughts scattered during morning reading.

It was all too obvious. Hou Zihao had already been paying attention to her, and now he observed even more clearly.

Her complexion was poor, and her mood was low.

He grew concerned. During the class’s loud recitation of an English text, he leaned closer and asked softly, “Are you alright? Are you feeling unwell?”

Zhou Leqi turned her head to look at Hou Zihao. They were close—so close that Hou Zihao could see the delicate texture of her fair skin, and Zhou Leqi could see the hidden concern and worry in his eyes.

Her heart softened slightly.

After hesitating for a moment, she seemed to finally make a decision. With some embarrassment, she asked him—

“Could I… borrow your math and English homework to look at?”